


Search for me in the bright spaces inside

by Claire



Category: White Collar
Genre: Multi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-01-31
Updated: 2010-01-31
Packaged: 2017-11-02 05:40:38
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,005
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/365551
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Claire/pseuds/Claire
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In which three are better than two...</p>
            </blockquote>





	Search for me in the bright spaces inside

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the porn battle, using the prompts: triad, touch, longing and shelter.

Elizabeth's fingers are careful as they circle your wrist, her voice soft as she murmurs to you, her other hand carding through your hair as your head rests on her thigh. Murmurs words like _want_ and _need_ and _love_ , about how they've waited so long for you to be ready for this.

You want to tell her that it's okay, that you're not the frightened virgin she seems to think you are. After all, this isn't the first time you've been in a bed with two other people in it. But it's the first time it's been two people that matter, the first time it's been two people who call you by your own name, instead of one that belongs to someone who doesn't even exist.

You can feel Peter behind you, purposefully keeping his weight off you as he straddles your legs.

"Neal--" His voice is barely a whisper as he leans down, presses a kiss to your shoulder, to your cheek, to Elizabeth's thigh. "You gotta speak to me, Neal. Tell me you're okay with this--"

You want to say _yes_ , but you can't make your mouth form the words, can't make your lips move or your tongue work. So you nod, mumbling nonsense into Elizabeth's skin and hoping they understand you. They do. But then again, they always have.

You can hear them above you, soft words spoken to each other as Elizabeth shifts slightly under you and her hand moves from your hair. You protest its loss and Peter laughs at the mewl of disappointment you give, laughs until you push your ass up to brush against his hard cock, making him hiss at the sensation, and then it's Elizabeth laughing at both of you.

You close your eyes, Elizabeth's scent surrounding you, as Peter moves, his hands warm as they push your legs apart so he can kneel between them. You hear the _snap_ of a tube opening and you know what it is Elizabeth shifted to reach on the bedside cabinet, knows that she's squeezing gel onto her husband's hand, telling him to warm it before he uses it.

There's a beat before Peter's fingers are dipping between your ass cheeks, circling your hole, and you smile into Elizabeth's thigh as you realise he has indeed warmed the lubricant, just like she told him to. He's careful as he slides inside, his fingers wet and slick as they open you up. His fingertips brush against that spot inside of you and you shudder in Elizabeth's grasp, arching up into Peter's touch.

"Are you ready, Neal?" Elizabeth asks, her hand back at your hair.

"Yes--" This time the word makes it past your throat, gasped out in a single breath of hope and desire.

Peter's fingers leave your body, leave you empty, as he pulls back slightly. There's the tearing of a wrapper and Peter's soft curse as he rolls the condom over his cock, Elizabeth's amused tone saying she told him she should have done it. Finally, though, _finally_ , he's there. His cock presses against you, nudging at the entrance to your body as he holds still for long seconds, and you want to tell him to move, to stop teasing and to just _move_.

The words are there, forming on your tongue and ready to fall from your lips when he _pushes_ , sliding inside in one thrust and cleaving you open. He only stops when he's all the way in, his skin against yours as he holds himself for a second, two, before he pulls back out to the tip and glides back in, making you shiver with every inch. And this time when he stills, he doesn't move.

"Please--"

The word comes from you before you can stop it, but Peter still doesn't move. Doesn't do anything except lean down, teeth nipping at your ear and voice honey warm as he speaks.

"Touch her--"

You open your eyes to look at Elizabeth. Her eyes are heavy and her teeth are nibbling at her lower lip, and you understand with every fibre of your being why Peter loves this woman.

"Elizabeth," you murmur. " _El--_ "

Your fingers move over her skin, asking permission without words, and gaining it when she spreads her legs further, without ever dislodging your head from her thigh. She's hot around your fingers as they sink inside her, your thumb brushing over her clit and making the grip she still has on your wrist tighten.

It's not until your fingers are sliding in and out of Elizabeth that Peter starts to move again, his thrusts into you matching yours into her, as you all fall into the same rhythm.

It's Elizabeth that comes first, her body clenching tight around your fingers as she pushes into your touch and rides out her orgasm.

You're not far behind her. You've been on the edge for so long, the friction of the sheet under you rubbing against your cock meaning Peter barely has to touch you, barely has to get his fingers around you before you're spilling into his hand, harsh and sharp and perfect. And you're still trembling from the force of your own pleasure ripping through you when Peter groans and stills above you, his forehead dropping to rest on your shoulder as he empties himself into you. 

You don't move until Peter slips from your body, rolling off you to lie on the bed beside you, condom discarded with barely a glance. He rests his head on Elizabeth's other thigh, one of his hands covering the fingers still around your wrist and the other moving to the hand you have resting on Elizabeth's leg, and looping his little finger around yours.

"So, Peter and I were talking, Neal," Elizabeth says softly. "And we'd really like to keep you, if you don't mind."

You turn your face and smile into her skin, your finger tightening around Peter's as you start to doze off, languid and loose and thinking, no, you really don't mind that at all.


End file.
